To Free, To Torture, or To Kill
by serious.effort
Summary: Another human prisoner of Azkaban was given the gift of insanity only to have it taken away by his rescuer, torturer, and executioner. Albus Dumbledore had come for Harry Potter at last. Dark Harry! Alternate beginning to Bleed Black, oneshot.


Title: To Free, to Torture, and to Kill

Author: Shadowed Rains

Disclaimer: Never have, nor will I ever, own Harry Potter. This shall refer to all chapters.

Authors Note: Short, but it looks good! I had fun writing it, even if I had to rewrite it 3 times (I apologize it's the shorter version. But it is a prologue! They probably will get longer...

Summary: Azkaban takes away the senses, numbing them, insanity is granted to those that suffer, as if even the Gods would not wish it upon the various murderers and rapists. Another such human was given with this gift only to have it taken away by his rescuer, torturer, and executioner. Albus Dumbledore had come for Harry Potter at last. Not all is well, not all is well. Dark Harry!

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Prologue: From the Dust

_The Vindictive lord turns against his raven _

_His raven could no longer fly, wings clipped _

_The raven disobeyed, now it must be punished _

_Too busy by far, just sacrifice it to the wolves _

_A far better fate for the raven it seems_

_A far better fate...._

Footsteps echoed over the large and empty corridor, only the screams of lower levels kept it company. The footsteps seemed to surround, the sound, it was so loud. There was a sound of a door opening, the heavy screech of rusted bolts grated on his ears, it hurt, gods it hurt.

He couldn't understand why he felt. How could this be? Insanity was granted to him long ago, so why was he coherent, why could he tell these things with distinction. Why did power long since lost seem reawakened in him?

He reached a hand down to the floor and felt the cold, gritty stone beneath his fingertips. Just that was a blessing, it had been so long it seemed...so long. He glanced around his cell in wonder.

He could see, he could feel, and he could smell!

To any other being these feelings and senses would not be a blessing, no they would be a hindrance, torture even. For what is seen is nothing but cold dirty stone, a small cot, toilet and a barred window. All that could be smelt was the remains of body waste and blood. All that could be felt was the bitter chill that came in response to a northern island prison.

All in all not a pleasant experience, no not at all, but not many have claimed Azkaban prison to be a pleasant place.

The only thing that would be hope inspiring to the average being was the footsteps echoing off the empty cell walls that surrounded him, coming closer and closer.

However this man in this cell, and on this island was not a normal human, never had been, and never would be. The only hope that arose at hearing the footsteps was for very different reasons, he hoped the feet making the soft, but ever so loud to his sound deprived mind, noise would keep on walking past, he hoped he wouldn't see the face of man, that its judgments would not be put on his shoulders again.

Despite this cruel place called Azkaban, it granted that to this man. Those same judgments may have placed him there, but here in his Cell he was nothing but a prisoner non-existent to the outside world. Judgments other than that were hard to come by. Sure the dementors would leave one alone after a few weeks of constant presence if they liked a person or disliked the person enough but it wasn't the same as the judgment of other human beings.

So it was practically the worst torture he had ever endured when those footsteps stopped in front of his cell door. It was like a knife stabbing though his chest when he heard the key inserted in the lock. It felt as if his world had come to an end when that same door screeched open with horrifying clarity. Despite himself he could not help but look up into the eyes of who would either free him, torture him, or kill him.

He felt such terror flow through him when his gaze was staring into the eyes of his greatest betrayer and cause of his torment.

He was looking into the periwinkle blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore…and he knew this man would inflict all three.

"To free, to torture, and to kill." Harry Potter whispered as the red light of a stunner hit him in the chest. He didn't even see the mocking smile the old man gave him as he heard the whispered words, but he felt it, he felt everything there was to feel.


End file.
